


How Flowers Bloom

by screamingatstars



Series: HFB [1]
Category: The Acorn Princess (Short Film)
Genre: Archery, Closeted Character, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Forbidden Love, Heteronormativity, M/M, Pre-Canon, Sneaking Out, Swordfighting, Training
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:42:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23400292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamingatstars/pseuds/screamingatstars
Summary: Before Flower almost had to marry his friend Princess Cornelia, he was just a young prince who wanted to save his people from the army of vicious Beetles who threatened every kingdom. This is the story of how Flower met his Beetle, and how their love changed everything he thought he knew about the world.
Relationships: Flower/Beetle
Series: HFB [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1897561
Comments: 70
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The original idea for this came from my friend pointing out that the dummy Natalia destroys at the beginning of The Acorn Princess is a beetle, and us speculating what that meant. I liked the implications of it so much that I decided to write this fic. Hope you enjoy!

“Flower? Flower, dear, just where do you think you’re going?”

The young prince stopped walking and sighed to himself. He had been so close to making it out without anyone seeing him this time. He swiped a hand through his hair and tacked on his best princely smile before turning around to face his concerned mother.

“Oh, just… Out to the practice fields to spar,” he told her, hefting the sword he held aloft. “A prince can never be too prepared!” 

Internally, he groaned at how stilted the fake excuse sounded. Luckily, the Queen seemed not to notice.

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea, son, but don’t you think your time would be better spent on other things right now? If you’re going out anyway, why not pay a visit to the Acorn Princess instead? You know you two are to be-“

“Are to be married one day, I know, Mother,” Flower finished. “But I need to be able to fight! if the Beetles come to attack us one day, I don’t want to be stuck inside because I don’t know how to fight properly! Besides, Cornelia’s got her hands full today, I wouldn’t want to bother her.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to hold the open smile. Knowing his mother, she wouldn’t care at all about anything he said besides the part about Cornelia.

“Why, how would you know that?” The Queen asked, raising an eyebrow at him questioningly. Right on target.

“Oh, she had mentioned it the other day when we were-” 

“When you were spending time with each other, I see.” 

Flower let his sentence trail off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as his mother stepped closer and leaned in, grinning at him as if sharing a secret.

“I see how it is,” she said with a wink. “You and the Acorn Princess, hmm? What a lovely match you two will make, I’m so proud of you, son!” 

“No, I didn’t mean-“ He didn’t get to finish, as she wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug, pinning his arms to his sides and pressing all the air out of his lungs.

“Oof… Mother, I can’t…. breathe…” He gasped. She let him go, a beaming smile on her face.

“If she truly is busy, I’ll have one of the knights escort you down to the practice fields right now. Maybe we can look into getting you properly trained, too. But oh, I can’t wait for when you’re just a little older! My son, wedding his love, the beautiful Acorn Princess!” 

His heart dropped for multiple reasons. “Mother, I don’t need an escort, really. And Cornelia and I aren’t-“

The queen waved down a passing knight, ignoring Flower’s uncertain protests. “Callum, be a dear and walk Flower down to the practice fields, would you? And maybe talk to Ivy when you’re down there about getting him some formal lessons.”

Callum bowed deeply. “Yes, my Queen.”

Internally, Flower groaned. Having swordfighting lessons would be a good thing in the long run he knew, but right then, his mother had unknowingly ruined his plan to go out and get some  _ real  _ experience.

Not to mention, getting her to drop the idea that he was in love with Cornelia would be a nightmare.

—————-

Flower stuck his head around the corner, checking the hallway for people. If he was going to be sneaking out, he had to do it properly. Seeing nobody, he smiled to himself and took off down the corridor, freshly sharpened practice sword in hand, heading for the bright light of outside at the end. He had managed to convince his morning tutor that he was sick, so he wouldn’t be looked for until his next lesson. And since the sun was barely approaching its peak, he had plenty of time to get to the Far Fields and back before then. He stretched his arm towards the door, ready to fling it wide open-

All at once, he felt an iron grip take hold of his arm, yanking him back. He cried out as his shoulder twisted unnaturally in its socket, a jolt of pain spiking through. At the sound, the hold on his arm vanished. Flower rubbed the now-aching joint, looking up to find his father glaring down at him.

“Sorry about that, son.” The Flower King straightened himself to his full height, looking down his nose at him in a distinctly unapologetic way, eyes narrowed and mouth pulled into a tight grimace. “What do you think you’re doing out here? Aren’t you meant to be with Lady Rose in your history lessons? And why do you have your sword? Lady Ivy won’t arrive until afternoon.”

“Father,” Flower chuckled nervously. He slipped the sword in question behind his back. “This is, uh, this is nothing! It's just-“

“You’re trying to sneak out, aren’t you?” The King jabbed an accusing finger into his chest. “You’re trying to go gallivanting off into the fields after some Beetles!”

His father never missed a thing, did he? No point in hiding it now.

“They’re becoming an infestation, Father. Soon we won’t be able to stop them, I have to help!”

“You don’t have to go anywhere, boy! You think you have what it takes to fight them? A lowly squire could best your swordfighting any day. You’ve got no experience, and even less skill. If I let you go after them, mark my words, you’d be dead within the hour.”

“I wouldn’t!” Flower insisted. “I’ve been practicing, just ask Lady Ivy, she’s been helping me train!”

“Lady Ivy,” his father practically growled, “is your teacher only because she trains the newest of new recruits. Buffoons who have never held a sword before. And in four months under her skilled tutelage, you have made almost no progress. Yet you expect me to let you face the fearsome Beetles?”

“Maybe!”

“You are the prince!” Yelled his father. “I am not letting my only child get himself killed because he had silly delusions of grandeur!” 

Those words cut deeper than Flower expected. He gripped his sword tighter, steeling himself as he glared up at the king of the land. This would probably be his only chance.

“I’m not trying to be a hero, Father,” he said carefully, lowering his voice from the almost-yell it had become. “You have to understand. I don’t want to take on an entire swarm by myself. All I want is to do  _ something _ to help our kingdom.” He turned towards the wall, where a tapestry hung depicting himself and his parents on a balcony, small in an upper corner, overlooking the sprawling fields of their subjects. “It’s our job to keep them safe, and the Beetles are putting them all in danger. If I don’t even try,” he went on, gesturing to the image, “what kind of prince would I be?”

He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable anger to hit him.

The bellowing retort he was braced for never came.

Instead, he heard his father sigh. He stepped up to Flower, placing one large hand on his shoulder with only minimal force. When he spoke, all the anger was gone from his voice.

“I understand you want to help, Flower, but you simply aren’t ready. You need to understand that.” He knelt down until the two of them were face-to-face, holding him by the shoulders and speaking to him with surprising gentleness. “Maybe one day you’ll be able to take on a Beetle, but that day is not today.”

“But-“ 

“Every flower will eventually bloom, my son,” said his father. “And when you do, I will be the first to tell you to go out and do your part. But until then, no sneaking out. Stay safe. Keep training with Lady Ivy. Work hard. If you really want to fight the Beetles, show me that one day you’ll have the skills to do so.”

With that, he offered his son a small smile and stood, adjusting his cape.

“Now, back to Lady Rose with you. Your mother told me she said you’ve been doing quite well. I expect that to continue, understood?”

Flower looked sadly towards the still-closed door. He nodded, hanging his head in resignation. 

“Yes, Father.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally supposed to have two scenes in it, but the first one got long enough that I decided to make it its own chapter. Hope you like it!

Flower had obeyed his father’s words. He had stopped trying to escape from the castle, and instead focused on his lessons- but especially on his daily swordfighting lessons from Lady Ivy.

After two more months of daily training and hard work, he had made… some progress.

“Are you ready to lose again, Your Highness?” Lady Ivy called, brandishing her wooden sword at him. She slowly edged around the outside of the dirt circle, keeping her eyes on him the whole time. The bright afternoon sun glinted and shone off her armor.

One day, he thought, he would have armor of his own.

Flower mirrored her motion, keeping his teacher across from him as he unsheathed his own, equally wooden weapon with a flourish.

“Actually, I was thinking I’m ready to win this time,” he answered, pointing the false blade at her. “Six months today, I’ve got a good feeling.”

Ivy laughed, copying his stance. “We’ll see, little bud,” she said, grinning. “We’ll see.”

Flower took the initiative, rushing head-on towards her. He raised his sword to strike, but quick as lightning, she lifted her own to block him. She used the leverage to shove him backwards, and he stumbled, barely managing to stay on his feet.

Before he could move again, Ivy’s sword was blurring towards him, and he ducked, swinging at her side as he dodged. When she bounded easily out of the way, the force of the miss set him off-balance, and he cried out as he fell face-first into the grass. He scrambled to his feet, spitting out clumps of earth. Ivy was nowhere to be found.

“Lady Ivy?” He called, looking around the whole ring. Nothing but empty dirt, and nothing around it but the towering grass. “Lady Ivy, where’d you-“

The grass in front of him rustled in warning before she came bursting out of the dense greenery, already poised to strike. He put all his strength behind his swipe, barely managing to knock her sword out of the way so he could run around her to the other side, leaving her in the middle.

“Not so fast, Your Highness,” she said as she followed him. “You can’t win by running away.” 

Flower took a breath. Adjusted his stance. Tightened his grip. Ready.

“I don’t plan to.”

He sprinted towards her, pulse roaring in his ears. He could see the perfect place to strike, where she wouldn’t be able to block the stroke. All he had to do was follow through, only a few more steps now-

This was it-

He let out a yell as he stabbed forward and-

Met only air.

Chest heaving, he stood frozen, disbelieving. How could he have missed? Did he close his eyes by mistake? He had done that before…

“Nice try, bud.” 

He whirled around to find his teacher standing at ease, just to the side of the line in the dirt from where he had charged. She had completely sidestepped him!

She smirked as she backed to the edge of the field, holding her sword in a lazy block. Flower stood, panting, in the center, his mind racing to think of a strategy he could use to win. But for each possibility he thought up, he could remember a dozen times in the past he had tried it and failed spectacularly. He felt a bead of sweat slide down his face. 

“Tired?” Ivy said innocently.

“Nope,” he said between breaths. “Totally fine over here.”

“Of course, my liege,” she said with a dramatic bow. “Forgive my doubt.”

Without warning, she suddenly lunged at him with a gleeful yell, sword aimed straight for his heart.

“Aah!” Flower dove to the side on instinct, trying to put distance between them. She reacted fluidly, changing direction on a dime and slapping the flat of her blade against his arm.

“You’re dead,” she told him, holding the sword there as she spoke. “You lasted all of two minutes.” 

He rolled onto his back with a sigh and let his sword arm flop over his eyes. “I really thought I had it that time.”

“Sorry, bud, but you really didn’t.” Her voice was sympathetic. “Even taking it easy on you, all it took was one quick thrust and you panicked. If you had stepped aside and parried, it would’ve been easy to block, and you would’ve had an easy opening to strike.”

Flower groaned. “I don’t get it! I’ve been working so hard, but I never improve. Shouldn’t I be making at least a little progress by now?” He moved his arm, peeking up to where Ivy stood above him. “Am I really this bad?”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up like that. You’ve definitely improved,” Ivy corrected him. She offered her hand, and he took it, pulling himself up to a sitting position. “Two months ago you wouldn’t have been able to dodge that last attack at all. Four, and you would’ve fallen over when I pushed you back. You might not be able to tell, but you’ve come a long way from where you started.” She plopped down next to him, starting the process of unbuckling her armor. 

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But I still feel like I should be doing more. At this rate, the Beetles will have taken over the whole continent before I’m ready to take them on.”

Ivy sighed, setting aside her gauntlets. “Still with the Beetles? Flower, I don’t know what else to say to you. If you’re really serious about wanting to go out there even after all this time, you have to be ready for what that’s really going to mean. You won’t be taking on entire swarms single-handedly like some kind of hero. You’d be fighting alongside an army, in real battles against real, living Beetles. And in real battles, it’s a whole lot more complicated than this simple swordplay.”

“I know that.”

“I’m really not sure you do.” She held up her pauldron, pointing to a sizable dent in the gleaming metal. “See this? It’s from one of them head butting me halfway across a flower patch. I barely even saw him coming.” She ran her fingers over the curved surface, expression distant, as if remembering. “That’s not the kind of thing you’re practicing for here. Once you master how to handle the sword on its own, there’s still applying it to the Beetles, not to mention mandatory bow-and-arrow training.”

“You mean… I’m nowhere close to being ready.” Flower didn’t phrase it as a question, because it wasn’t. “I still have years and years left to go before I can help.”

She looked him straight in the eyes. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

That confirmation stung, more than he had expected it to. Deep inside of his chest, he could almost feel it when something central and bright cracked in two. His friend and mentor held his heart in her hands, and she was crushing it.

“You’re a wonderful prince, Flower,” Ivy went on, tone gentler than before. “The fact that you so desperately want to save your kingdom at any cost shows that. But you’re also very idealistic, and I’d say plenty naive. The fact of the matter is, with your skill level, you’re not going to be ready to get out there for a long time, if ever.” She gazed at him imploringly. “You’ve got a lot of determination and not much else. I know you think that’s enough to get you through, but it’s not. War doesn’t work like that. It’s dangerous and unpredictable and deadly. Your father won’t send you out there if you don’t know how to keep yourself alive, and neither will I. I need you to understand that if you want to keep working for this.”

He couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat.

“Flower?” She said carefully, extending a hand out towards him. “You okay there, bud?”

_ Bud. _

“Is that all I am to you?”

His words seemed to catch her off guard. “What?”

He stood, gripping his sword tight as he looked down on Ivy, her armor strewn around her like the broken shell of a Beetle the soldiers brought back from a battle. 

“Everyone thinks of me as just a bud. Like I can’t do anything yet. You think it. Father thinks it.” His voice cracked, and he swiped at the tears gathering in his eyes. “All I want is to prove I’m more than that, but now I’m not sure if I’ll ever get to.”

Ivy seemed to sense that the situation was on the edge of something. She rose, slowly, hands reaching for him. 

“Listen, I’m sorry what I said upset you. I’m not giving up on you, and I don’t think you’re incapable. But, Flower, the truth is, you don’t get to decide when you’re ready. All you can do is try to get yourself there. That’s all any of us can do. Do you understand?”

He desperately searched her face for some other answer, but there was none.

Only his own failure.

His wooden sword dropped unceremoniously to the dirt.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He hung his head. “I don’t know what… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I know you’re doing your best to prepare me.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” She hugged him, patting his back reassuringly. “Don’t feel bad about wanting to prove yourself. But don’t hinge your entire self-worth on defeating the Beetles, either. You’ve got a caring heart and a confident personality up there in that head of yours. Even if you never face a Beetle, I know you’ll still find your own way to bloom. Even if it’s not exactly the way you expect.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn’t think I’d be able to get this one finished so soon, but Logan’s Sides Tracks playlist turned out to be perfect for writing to and it made me so productive! Hope you enjoy!

Flower was hidden away in a corner of the castle library, deeply immersed in a book, when the familiar voice of his friend interrupted.

“Hey, bud, can I steal you for a second?”

Hastily setting down the book, he jumped up eagerly from his chair. “Of course, what is it?”

Ivy chuckled at his enthusiasm. Her hair wasn’t in its usual tail, instead hanging loose. She was off duty. “Calm down, it’s nothing to get too excited over. I wanted to formally introduce you to one of my comrades, if you’re up for it. I think you’ve probably seen him around, he’s been stationed here for years now. His name’s Sir Callum.” The name rang a bell. 

“I know of him, you’re right. Mother’s had him escort me places a lot.” Ivy grimaced.

“Ugh, don’t I know it. He always gripes about that every time it happens.” She blew a stray hair out of her eyes, then crossed her arms and gave him a knowing look. “But he’s the best archer in the ranks we’ve got here at the castle, and he’s agreed to give you a few pointers. Maybe even some lessons, if you’re interested.” Her eyes were twinkling by then, and Flower knew she knew what he would say.

“Are you serious? That’s amazing, thank you so much!” He was grinning like a child now, from ear to ear. Archery! Something that wasn’t swords! It was a brand new chance! Ivy laughed, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

“Alright, Your Highness, thank you for your noble sacrifice. I can tell how much it’s tearing you apart to agree to this.”

“It is, completely,” Flower agreed with a beaming smile. “I’m heartbroken.” Unable to contain his excitement, he surged forward, catching her in a hug. She made a little ‘oof’ of surprise, before returning the embrace and patting his head affectionately.

“Really, thank you,” he murmured. Ivy squeezed him ever so slightly tighter.

“No problem, bud.”

———

“No, you have to hold your arm straighter. You’re going to hit yourself in the face, Your Highness.”

Flower adjusted his bow arm obediently. “Like this?”

Callum shook his head. “No, now you’re angling it downward too much. You’re aiming for the target, not your foot, remember.”

“Sorry. I really am trying,” he said, closing one eye to line up his bow with the head of the target. “Is this better?”

Callum sighed, tilting his head back towards the open sky. The clear disappointment buried in the sound made Flower’s shoulders droop.

“Look, Your Highness,” the knight said tiredly, “This is extremely basic stuff we’re talking about. To shoot an arrow, you have to hold your arm straight and angle your bow properly  _ at the same time. _ You’re doing one or the other. If you’d just focus, I’m sure you’d get it in no time.”

“But… I have been focusing,” Flower protested. “I’ve been doing everything you said. I’ll get the hang of it, you’ll see.” To prove it, he picked up an arrow and slotted it into the bowstring. The second he did so, it slipped through his fingers and fell back to the ground as the bow was ripped from his grasp.

“What are you doing? You’re not nearly ready for arrows yet! Do you want to take your eye out?” Callum was practically screaming, directly into his ear.

“I mean, I don’t think it would go into my own eye, since, uh…” he trailed off, remembering their first lesson the week before. “I... only... got it backwards the one time.”

Callum gave him a pointed look, impatience lining his features. “Maybe we should be done for the day, hmm?”

Flower hung his head. The more training he went through, and especially the more time he spent with Sir Callum, the more he seemed to do that. “Right. I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, then?”

When the knight didn’t answer, he looked up to find him already halfway down the field, heading for the path back up to the castle. He hadn’t even bothered to return Flower’s bow or quiver, and had them both slung over his shoulder like the cumbersome tools weighed less than a sack of dandelion seeds. Shame prickled in his chest like a thorny vine wrapped around his heart.

As if to rub it in, Ivy’s words drifted to the front of his mind:

_ Flower, the truth is, you don’t get to decide when you’re ready. _

“But don’t hinge your entire self-worth on defeating the Beetles, either,” he filled in himself, talking out loud past the lump in his throat. “Don’t feel bad about wanting to prove yourself.” A tear slipped down his cheek. He swiped it away, but another soon took its place.

“All you can do is try to get yourself there.” 

Despair, cold and suffocating, filled his lungs as he watched his mentor recede into the distance, carrying the proof of his resounding failure on his back.

——

As he slowly made his way through the castle halls, gaze focused on his feet, he turned a corner and almost ran right into his mother. He stumbled backwards, regaining his balance as she put a hand on her heart.

“Goodness!” She adjusted her crown, giving him a warm smile that had much less effect than it normally would’ve. “Flower, dear, where are you off to now? I haven’t seen you all day!” The Flower Queen pulled him into a tight hug, seemingly oblivious to the tears pooling in his eyes and blurring his vision.

“Mother,” he managed, taking as deep a breath as he could while caught in her viselike grip. “I’ve been training, remember?” The knot in his chest pulled just a little harder.

“Is that where you’ve been all morning? Gracious, it seems like you’re never in the castle anymore, always down at the practice fields for some training or another. Why not take a rest, spend your time on other things?”

“Like what?” He tried to wipe his eyes surreptitiously as she pulled away.

“Why don’t you stay and talk with me for a while? A mother wants to hear about her child’s day, you know!”

He gripped one arm with the other, pushing down the flood of guilt that rose up. “I don’t know, Mother, I’m not feeling that well right now. Maybe we could talk tomorrow?”

The queen frowned. “Did something happen, son?” She put her hand under his chin, lifting his head to examine his face. “You look like you’ve been crying. Tell me, what’s the matter?” 

Pushing her hand away, he shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“No, talk to me. Was it Sir Callum?” When he didn’t say anything, heart too heavy to speak, she tutted. “He can be quite tough, but you should know by now he means well. I’m sure whatever he said, he doesn’t truly mean it.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders in what was probably meant to be a comforting gesture, but instead made the pressure in his chest hurt worse. “If anything, it shows how much valor he sees in you. He believes in you enough to know you can handle it. He’s probably proud of you, just as I am.”

“It’s…” He swallowed thickly. “It’s not like that.”

“Whyever not? Sir Callum is many things, but he’s served your father and I for many years. He would never say a cruel thing about anyone.”

His head dropped. There wasn’t a point.

“You’re probably right. Forgive me, Mother.” 

Of course, he thought to himself miserably as he turned away, even if Sir Callum didn’t intend to hurt him, that didn’t make the hurt any less real. 

He made his way to the stairs leading to his bedchamber, but found he couldn’t summon the strength to continue to his bed after he climbed them. Instead, he sat down heavily on the top step and let his head fall into his hands as the sobs broke free. Tears leaked through his fingers, spotting his clothes. 

Even when he finally wound up in his bed, eyes dry, he wasn’t quite able to rest. Hours after he first lay down and tried to sleep, he was still tossing and turning, unable to quiet his thoughts.

A memory flashed, unbidden, through his head, of his mother reading him a story as a small child. It had been his favorite, the one chronicling the life of a fictional Flower Prince, who had onceridden bravely into battle against an entire army and defeated them all one by one with his sword. At least, until his sword finally broke. Then, calm as the leaves on a windless day, he pulled out a bow and arrow and flawlessly took out the rest. That prince was fearless, skilled, undaunted. Absolutely unstoppable. 

Flower, as much as he desperately wished otherwise, was not that prince.

——-

The next morning, when he opened his eyes, it took almost a full minute of staring dazedly at the ceiling before his mind woke up enough to process. Once it did, though, all the events of the day before dame rushing back to him like a gust of wind. 

He sighed, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. At least he ended up getting a little sleep the night before- and now that he was noticing the angle of the light from the windows, he might even have gotten enough. Whatever the amount, sleep had managed to reset his brain enough for him to know that dwelling on the lesson and the encounter wasn’t the best idea. He had to move forward, like Ivy said.

After changing out of the previous day’s rumpled clothes and splashing cold water on his face, he ventured into the hall- 

To find himself facing his father, who stood with his hands clasped behind his back and his feet planted firmly in an imposing stance.

“Good morning,” the Flower King said gruffly. 

“Good morning, Father.” 

“I have an assignment for you.”

“What?” He hadn’t been expecting anything like that this early in the morning. Shaking his head once to try and clear his mind, he asked, “What kind of assignment?”

His father wasted no time with preamble. “A short field mission.”

“A field mission?”

Was this really happening? No, he must be dreaming still. He was asleep in his bed. His father hadn’t actually told him that he would be getting to go on a real mission after all this time…had he?

“Yes, that’s what I said. We’re losing too many birds in battle, and our breeding pairs aren’t enough. You’ll depart tomorrow at dawn for Raven’s Point, with Lady Ivy and Sir Callum. The Beetles and our forces both left the surrounding area three days ago, so there is no threat. The three of you should be back before the sun sets with at least three birds, assuming all goes well.”

Flower nodded vigorously. “Yes, Father, I won’t let you down!” The last shreds of cobwebs in his brain were swept away. He was practically floating, lighter than a breath of wind. 

The king sighed. “I hope not. But I still expect you to devote time to memorizing your route and schedule, and to check all your equipment carefully before you leave. It’s the least you should be doing when you go on long missions, so consider this a sort of practice run. If you can’t take a simple task like this seriously, you aren’t ready for the real thing.”

“I’m ready, you’ll see!” He promised, hand over his heart. “Nothing will go wrong. We’ll be there and back with time to spare!”

His father raised an eyebrow. “I hope your confidence equates to good results.”

“It will! I’m sure it will!” 

The eyebrow lowered, and the expression his father wore shifted. “And that you know how to keep yourself safe.”

“I do, really. Thank you so much, Father!” All the doubt and sadness and failure from the day before was like a distant dream. In that moment, he didn’t need a mount to fly.

——

“Woah, you can see the whole village from here!” Flower gasped, craning his neck to see around his raven’s massive wings. The houses were barely specks below, and he couldn’t even see any people. Up ahead of him, Ivy called back to where he was, her voice carried with the wind.

“Remember, Flower, this isn’t technically a mission. We’re just going to try to find some ravens to bring back for the stables. After this long, even with the breeding setup, we’re running out of mounts. We need at least five hundred more than what we currently have.”

“Wait, why do we need that many?” He asked, adjusting his grip on the reins. “Are we trying to put every soldier in the air?”

Sir Callum flew up beside him. “Yes, we are. Because we’re fighting Beetles, remember? They have wings.” 

“Oh, yeah, right.” He couldn’t help feeling a little stupid at that reminder. Or maybe it was just Callum. “That makes sense.”

“Anyway,” Ivy said, pointing up ahead, “we’re almost to the Meadow, so we should be about halfway to Raven’s Point. Make sure to stay sharp. It’d be better if we could grab a couple fully grown birds each before we get in deep, run home, get them situated straight away. The less time we have to spend catching them from the nesting sites, the more time we have to train them and get them a rider.” She leaned over the side of her mount, effortlessly holding on with one arm to retrieve the worn-out messenger bag hanging there. Pulling out a hefty book, she opened it to a page in the middle and absentmindedly ran her finger down the words. “Do you remember your job, Flower, or should we go over it again?”

“I’ve got it, don’t worry,” he assured. “Father made sure I-“

“No, he doesn’t, we better remind him,” Callum called. “Even I’d rather hear it a second time than risk the whole trip.” Flower turned to face him, indignant.

“Hey, I studied the assignment before we left, just like you did!” He was about to keep going, but Ivy cut him off.

“Callum has a point. It’s not like we have anything more important to talk about.” Looking back and seeing his expression, she gave him an apologetic look and added, “Hey, don't take it personal. I’m sure you can handle yourself on this one, but Cal’s got a point, better to be safe than sorry.” With that, she faced forward and launched into the full rundown of their plan... that he really had memorized, exactly as his father had asked. He grumbled to himself, and a sudden flash of color below caught his attention. Curious, he peered over the side of the raven, and Ivy’s voice swiftly faded into the background of his mind as he immediately forgot how to breathe.

Ivy had been right. The endless sea of colors streaming past could only be the legendary Great Meadow. Where else could there possibly be so many flowers all in one place? Vibrant reds and glowing yellows stretched seamlessly all the way to the horizon, seemingly minuscule from the air despite their actual immense size. As if on cue with him seeing them, the sweet scents of the Meadow flowers wafted up, and he could’ve cried right then and there; it was the smell of dreams poised to come true. A warm buzz filled his chest as his heart pounded with hope.

He didn’t fully remember what happened next.

One moment, he was awestruck at the endless sight, reaching out as if to touch it. The next, Ivy was screaming his name as wind roared in his ears, his stomach slamming into his throat as he plummeted toward the Meadow far below.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lost a whole day of productivity yesterday, but I still managed to finish this chapter! Ended it sooner than I planned, but I think it works better this way.   
> Hope you enjoy!

The first thing that registered when Flower opened his eyes was a massive headache. The second thing was the fact that he was lying on his back in the dirt, the third thing was searing pain in his legs, and the fourth thing was a huge yellow blossom above him. The events leading up to where he was came back to him after a few moments.

Right. He had fallen off his bird. Mid-flight. High in the sky. While they were directly over the dense and unsettled Great Meadow. 

Really, what else could go wrong?

He groaned, pushing himself up onto his elbows and looking around slowly, trying not to move his head too much. It was entirely possible he had a concussion after that fall, and the sudden rush of dizziness probably wasn’t a good sign.

“Ivy? Callum?” He called, hand going to his throbbing head. “Can you guys hear me?” There was no response. Which made sense, he supposed, considering how much area there was for them to search. With how high up the three of them had been, there was no way they’d be able to see where he’d fallen. He would’ve shrunk right out of their sight in seconds.

After an unsuccessful attempt at standing, the intense pain in his legs was impossible to ignore. He collapsed to the ground with a cry, taking a deep breath and doing his best to not panic. So he couldn’t exactly move. Okay. He didn’t have any of his weapons or supplies, either, all of it would still be in the bags attached to his mount. That was fine. He could last here long enough for Ivy and Callum to rescue him, and they’d be looking for him. It would be soon enough. If nothing else, he could probably eat some of the flower stems or blooms; he knew the much tinier versions of these back at the palace were edible.

“It’s okay,” he reassured himself. “This is fine. Not the best, but fine.” He could handle this, right?

He let his head fall back, looking straight up towards the sky and the ceiling formed of leaves and blossoms. He was deep, deep in the Meadow, judging by the colors around him. He knew from his lessons that the edges of the vast expanse had smaller flowers in lighter, more muted shades, but here the petals were brighter, the stems taller, the leaves wider. A far cry from the miniaturized, selectively bred variant they cultivated back home.

He closed his eyes at the picture, trying to push back a sharp pang of fear. What if he never went home? Never saw those flower beds again? There was definitely something wrong with his legs, so he couldn’t run from any wild birds or squirrels. If Ivy and Callum didn’t find him, and soon, he might very well end up in something's stomach. 

“Please hurry, you guys,” he whispered. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. “I don’t…” His voice cracked, and he choked back a sob, hand covering his mouth to hold in the sound. If he started crying now, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop. The building panic in him was pressing against his rib cage, and his breaths were beginning to come in quick hiccups instead of actual breaths. 

“Come on, Flower,” he forced himself to say aloud. It came out garbled, but it was something. “You can do this. You have to calm down and focus.” The shakiness of his voice didn’t match the confidence of his words. He tried pulling his legs up to his chest, to hug his knees for some comfort, but his arms were trembling like crazy and he couldn't even move his legs anymore. Laying back on the ground in defeat, he...

Wait, he couldn’t move his legs?! The realization hit him like a slap to the face. No. No, this couldn’t be happening. Desperately, he grabbed at one of them and lifted it off the ground. He nearly screamed at the agony the movement caused, but when he let go of the limb it plopped right back down. No matter what he did, he couldn’t hold either of his legs up in the air or move them even an inch. They were painful dead weight; completely useless.

“Great. This is just perfect!” He cried. A sense of hopelessness was creeping into the whole situation. Immobilized, isolated, and lost, with no supplies, no team, no nothing. Shame flushed his cheeks with warmth. “Some prince I turned out to be,” he lamented to the empty meadow.

“Ooh, you’re a prince?” 

Maybe not so empty after all.

Flower yelped, pulse pounding in his ears instantly. Whipping his head this way and that in search of the lispy voice’s source, he saw nothing. 

“H-hello?” He called out, still looking for whoever- or whatever- had spoken. “Show yourself!”

At first, nothing happened. Not a single leaf or tall blade of grass so much as rustled in the wind. Enough time passed with no response that he started to wonder if he had imagined the unfamiliar voice. It wasn’t until he happened to glance skywards that he finally noticed something out of place.

Above his head was a large yellow bloom, with wide, flat petals.The sun’s position in the sky backlit each of them, making them ever so slightly translucent. Because of that, he was able to barely make out the shape of… _something_ vaguely humanoid, hiding on the other side of a petal, dark against the light. 

He shaded his eyes with a hand as he squinted up at it. “I know you’re there, you know. Who- what are you?”

The figure twitched, and as Flower watched, the silhouette of two strange, appendage-looking shadows popped out of its back. 

Before he could process that, the whole petal folded down and inwards, and Flower instinctively covered his head as the figure dropped down in front of him. A couple of footsteps in his direction, and he could see the person’s shadow. Now that it was closer, it was easier to tell that the details were… off. The torso was disproportionate, and strange lines and shapes jutted out all over the shadow. What kind of person was this?

Raising his head, his gaze traveled up, from what looked like unusual purple boots, to misshapen, oddly-colored armor, to-

His thoughts stalled.

His heart practically stopped.

This was no knight.

He knew those antennae. He knew that purple plating, knew those  _ wings.  _ Features he had studied his entire life, learned inside and out, in the hopes that he’d be able to destroy them one day.

His motionless legs were the only part of him that wasn’t shaking like a leaf. Every emotion he couldn’t name was battling with every other for dominance, along with some he could. Fear. Shock. Excitement. Anger. 

Because the figure standing in front of him, as he sat completely helpless and unable to move, was a Beetle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That total chapter count keeps on going up... I might have to change it to a question mark if the story keeps straying from my outline :P


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically what was going to be the second half of chapter 4, before I split it. I wanted to make this one longer, but you wouldn’t believe how much of a pain these 1000 words were to write.   
> Also, what a pretty question mark up there in the chapter count!

“So, you’re a prince, huh?” The Beetle said conversationally, seemingly unaware of the sheer amount of adrenaline that was fueling Flower’s mind at that very moment. “How’d you end up all the way out here?”

Admittedly, he was confused by that. Really confused. Everyone knew Beetles fought first and asked questions later, yet this one was reversing the order? Making conversation? No. It was a ploy. It had to be, because if it wasn’t...

“What kind of trick is this? Stay back!” Flower yelled, trying his best to channel his father’s trademark commanding tone. “I’m warning you!” Internally, he grimaced at himself. Every word sounded excruciatingly forced and flimsy.

But surprisingly, it seemed to work.

“Okay, if you say so.” The Beetle backed up a few steps, leaving several feet of space between them. “That far enough?” 

Once again, the response caught him off guard. Why wasn’t it attacking him yet? He was completely immobile; defenseless. There was absolutely no reason for it not to attack him!

“Um, a little farther? Farther, would, um, would be nice?”

The Beetle laughed, the sound full and carefree. “You’re not so bad, for a Flower Prince. What’s your name?”

Any remaining handle he might have had on the situation vanished. “What?”

“I asked what your name is,” repeated the Beetle. “You do have one, right?”

If his legs weren’t completely useless from the fall, he’d have either run away or tried to fight long before any questions were asked. Instead, he found himself answering. “Um, it’s Flower,” he said hesitantly. Maybe if he told it what it wanted to hear and did as it said, he’d stand a chance at being able to get out of the Meadow alive.

“Flower? Your name is Flower?”

A bout of defensiveness surged in him. “Yes, is there a problem?”

The Beetle was smiling, a wide, genuine grin that would’ve been downright friendly if it were human. “No, it’s funny that we’re both like that! I mean, you’re a flower named Flower, and I’m a beetle named Beetle! What are the odds, am I right?”

“You… you have a name?” The words fell out of his mouth, and he regretted them immediately.

The Beetle- or, just Beetle, apparently- frowned, easy smile disappearing. “Of course I have a name, why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, um… I never knew Beetles had names,” he answered honestly. “I still don’t fully believe you’re not about to kill me.”

A flurry of emotions flashed across his face, and Flower knew he had made a mistake.

“Oh.” Beetle’s voice had gone hard, but Flower had spent enough time disguising his own hurt to recognize when someone else was doing it. “I get it. I see how it is. Sorry for bothering you, Your Highness.” His eyes were sad as he turned away, wings opening wide, crouching as if to take off.

Shocking himself, Flower called out. “Wait, Beetle-“

It was at that moment that the bird landed behind Flower. As he sat, immobile, about to try and apologize for his misstep, a sharp gust nearly blew him away entirely. When he twisted around, having barely managed to stay rooted in one spot, he came face-to-face with a massive, beady eye and a deadly beak. 

The blood in his veins turned to ice. Ravens in the wild were some of the most dangerous creatures alive, and he was caught in one’s sights half paralyzed. Alone, empty handed, and injured.

He had never imagined that this would be how his story ended.

Closing his eyes, feeling simultaneously terrified and calm, Flower sent one last silent goodbye and apology to his friends, his family, who he would never see again. Ivy, Cornelia, his parents…

He felt a squeezing pressure on either side of his waist, pinning his arms to his sides, and he clenched his eyes shut further as he felt himself leave the ground. This was it, the raven picking him up in its beak. In a matter of moments he would be dead. There was nothing he could do now. As the raven screeched, he accepted the fact that it would be the last thing he ever heard.

It wasn’t until several seconds later, when he noticed that he was still rising and the wind was blowing his hair back, that he realized a bird couldn’t call if it had a beakful of prince. Which meant that, against all odds, he wasn’t being eaten.

Slowly, he cracked his eyes open and was met with a disorienting visual: the bright colors of the Meadow spread out below him, growing ever more blurred as he watched. He was up high, much higher than he flew with Ivy and Callum. The air around him was starting to chill, and he shivered, the motion drawing his attention to the grip around his middle. If not a bird’s beak, what possible force could have saved him?

Craning his head, he looked around for the source of his rescue and found it. The pressure he felt was from one of Beetle’s arms, looped around him and holding him securely to keep him from falling. His face was set in concentration as he flew, higher and farther, with Flower tucked against him.

Mind reeling, still somewhat shocked to be alive, Flower said nothing. Beetle was intensely focused on his flight, so at least he had time to collect himself. Only minutes before, he had never seen a Beetle and was convinced that if he ever did, he’d fight it immediately. No questions asked. But then his legs had stopped working, and Beetle had dropped from a flower to talk instead of attack. He even seemed… nice. 

That might have been the most frightening aspect of the whole situation, he thought. A Beetle, nice? He never would’ve imagined it, and yet, one had just saved his life for no reason. Even after Flower hurt his feelings!

Half of him was still screaming in horror at the fact that he had exchanged pleasantries with his mortal enemy. Beetles had ravaged villages, destroyed fields, even harmed actual subjects in multiple kingdoms. He knew how dangerous they were. And yet, half of him was already starting to think of Beetle as more than that. Because anyone who laughed at how Flower stumbled over his speech like he was talking to a lifelong friend, enjoyed the silly similarities between their names despite the fact that they were perfect strangers, and then turned around and saved him from a dangerous raven who easily could’ve killed him, too, despite having less than no reason to do so?

Something told him that someone like that couldn’t possibly be an evil monster.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *looks at date last updated*  
> *hides shamefully*  
> So basically, I realized about 1200 words into writing this chapter that what I had written was terrible, and that I needed to do something totally different with the chapter anyway. I had to scrap all 1200 of those words, which was especially bad for morale considering it had taken a lot more misery and pushing through than usual to write them.   
> Sorry for the wait, I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway!

Flower wasn’t sure how long they were in the air for. He guessed somewhere in the range of hours, but it could’ve been minutes or days for all he knew. It was long enough that Beetle had switched the arm he was being held in (a completely nerve-wracking experience Flower would give almost anything to never have to go through again). 

Neither of them had said much of anything yet. Apologies and questions lingered on the tip of his tongue, but the only exchange they had had was shortly after Beetle first scooped him up, when the cold air had started to numb Flower’s hands and shorten his breath.

“Where are you taking me?” He had asked tentatively, trying his best to stop his teeth from chattering. 

“Raven’s Point,” Beetle said, voice clipped. Closed. “I’m dropping you off.”

“But… why?”  _ Why there? Why did you bother saving me? Why not leave me to the bird? Why are you so different from what I thought you’d be? _

“Every time you flower people come through the Meadow, it’s ‘cause you need birds.” Beetle wouldn’t look at him, keeping his attention straight ahead. “You being a prince and all, someone’s bound to come for you. That’ll be the first place they look.”

Flower hadn’t known what to say in response to that. An overwhelming sense of shame was building in his chest, making it impossible to meet Beetle’s gaze, so he closed his eyes and held on tight to his arm. They were still up high, much higher than he had ever been before. He was pretty sure not even the stealth mounts flew at this altitude. If he fell now, it would be more than his legs that stopped working. 

_ No, don’t think about that. You have to stay strong. _

All his thoughts were starting to swirl again, pushing against his eyes and pounding through his head in a constant heavy pressure. The myriad events of the past minutes and hours were starting to catch up to him, sending his heart racing and stealing the breath from his lungs- almost literally. He tried to inhale deeply, hungry for air, but he barely got through a single slow breath before he started gasping, suddenly intensely lightheaded. One of Ivy’s lessons jumped to the front of his awareness: A diagram of different levels of flight; decreasing time allowances the higher up you flew; a stern warning about never pushing the limits, for fear of a lethal outcome.

_ The air’s too thin. _

Fear registered briefly in his mind, but he was too far gone to think. The whole world was tilting and spinning, his eyes slipping shut involuntarily as his limbs seemingly disconnected from his brain. Where were his hands? What had he been worried about just a moment before? Why couldn’t he stop his chest heaving, lungs working frantically, searching for something it couldn’t find?

A voice cut through his dimming awareness, simultaneously loud and quiet.

“Hang on, Your Highness!”

He couldn’t tell whose voice it was. Everything was foggy and confusing, disjointed sensations: A breeze on his arms; a bright light; something rushing in his ears.

The last thing he saw before everything went black was a glimpse of deep purple, and then nothing else.

——

_ “I’ve got ya, Your Highness, come on. Wake up, wake up…” _

_ Rustling grass. Running footsteps. A gasp. _

_ “Ivy, come quick!” A sword being drawn. “It’s the prince! A Beetle has the prince!” _

_ In the distance, a panicked yell: “What? Hold on, I’m coming!” _

_ Movement. The ground under his back.  _

_ “There, take him. He passed out from altitude-“ _

_ “Step away from him, now! Or I’ll run you through where you stand.” _

_ “Alright, alright!” _

_ Clanking armor. More footsteps, a second sword, heavy pants. “Flower? Flower!” _

_ “I can handle this one on my own. You take the prince, he’ll do better with you there. Don’t wait for me.” _

_ A small rush of air, akin to something taking off. The sounds of pursuit. Worried hands checking him for injuries.  _

_ “Flower! I’ve got you, little bud, I’ve got you. Just hang in there... _

——

“...Flower! Flower, wake up! Come on, don’t give up on me now!”

Everything was ringing: a high, keening sound permeating everything. It hurt, like a narrow needle boring repeatedly into his ears. He groaned, slowly becoming aware of his position on his back. More of his senses began to function: The surface he was on felt hard and solid, the air tasted sweet, and he could feel the warm sun on his skin. 

“Flower? Can you hear me?”

The sounds around him sharpened, the high-pitched ring fading away. Now he could make out that the voice was familiar, distinctly familiar.

“Open your eyes, you can do it. I know you can.”

Recognition hit him all at once.

Ivy!

His eyes flew open, and sure enough, there she was. His mentor was kneeling at his side, looking down at him with such immense relief in her eyes that it rendered him speechless. Faint tear tracks were still visible on her cheeks.

“Hey there, bud,” she said, a half-smile crossing her face. “Thank the stars you’re safe. How are you feeling?”

It took him three tries to form words.

“I’ve been better,” he managed. 

Ivy laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “That’s the Flower I know. You just survived falling off your mount from middle height, being captured by a Beetle, and a whole lot of altitude sickness, and those are the first words out of your mouth.”

An alarm went off in his head.

“Wait, what do you mean, captured? I wasn’t captured.”

Ivy looked confused. “Of course you were, bud. You must’ve gotten a concussion from the fall that messed with your memory. We found you unconscious, being held by a Beetle just off Raven’s Point. It’s a miracle you survived.” She reached out then, probing at his head with her fingers. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. At least you don’t have to remember it. I’ll take you back to the castle right away, and we can get you started on your recovery.” The hands on his head moved to his shoulders, gingerly starting to ease him into a sitting position. “The mission’s a bust. Callum will come back separately. He went after that Beetle, trying to get rid of it along with whatever rogue cell it’s a part of. Maybe you can ask him to tell you all about it later.”

Flower bolted upright, immediately crying out as a sharp pain shot through his entire lower half. Ivy quickly pulled him into a hug, holding him still, careful not to move his legs.

“Take it easy, or you’ll make it worse. There’s definitely something wrong with your legs, plus you’re concussed.”

“I’m not concussed! Ivy, he didn’t capture me, he saved me!” Flower struggled against her grasp. “You can’t hurt him!”

“Hurt who?”

“Beetle!” 

Right then, his injuries didn’t matter. There was something much more important than his own well-being hanging in the balance. 

“We have to tell Callum to leave him alone, I won’t let him get hurt! Please, I’d be dead if it weren’t for Beetle!”

He needed to apologize. He needed to ask so many questions, he needed to-

“You’re delirious, bud. The Beetle didn’t save you; he couldn’t have. You fell from middle height and can’t use your legs, we need to get you home right now. Come on.” Ivy slipped one hand under his knees and the other around his back, picking him up effortlessly. “It’s going to be a rough time flying home, with your injuries, but there’s no other way.”

“No, stop it! Put me down, please! You don’t understand!”

“Flower.” Her tone was firm, final. “We’re leaving now. I’m getting you home. I won’t let you get hurt any more.” A moment passed, and she sighed. “I know you’ve always wanted to face a Beetle, but this was the worst-case scenario. As your mentor and your friend, I’m not going to jeopardize your safety further than I already have.”

He fought, trying to push away from her, but she was stronger than he was even when he had full use of all his limbs. She situated him on her bird’s back, using a length of rope to tie down his legs. There was nothing he could do but sit helplessly on Ivy’s bird, craning his neck to look back until Raven’s Point vanished under the horizon. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not too sure how I feel about this chapter, but at least I don’t hate it!

Ivy had been right about one thing: the flight home was excruciating. He was certain by now that something was broken, even if it didn’t look like it.

Every flap, every adjustment of their direction, every gust of wind jostled his currently-paralyzed legs, meaning every single second of the long journey was a painful second. By the end of the first hour, Flower was biting back tears and vigorously tapping his hands on his arms to try and distract himself. By the second, he was wishing Beetle had left him to be eaten by the wild raven.

By the third, he was on the edge of consciousness, the rope around his legs the only thing keeping him from falling off for the second time.

He cast about for thoughts, fighting through the pain. Beetle once again moved to the front of his mind, the image of his easy smile burned into his memory. 

Why couldn’t he have done something...

He let himself slump forward, eyes drifting closed, and finally lost consciousness.

—-

Flower woke up disoriented and in pain, with no idea where he was. Bright sunlight was shining into his eyes, preventing him from seeing much of anything, and all he could hear was the distant call of a raven. Just that small, faint sound felt like shattering glass in his ears; every muscle in his body held a deep, dull ache. He didn’t even try to move, shutting his eyes against the light.

He was lying on his back, as seemed to be becoming the norm for him, and the surface under him was soft, but beyond that he couldn’t tell. Where was he? How had he gotten here? He tried to remember, thinking back to the last thing he could recall, which was-

The mission. Falling off his mount.  _ Beetle. _

His eyes flew open, and he tried to sit up, only for hurt to spike through his limbs. He hissed in pain, looking down at his body as he did so, and noticed that while his legs were still tied down in place, he was in his own bed and had been put into plain, soft clothes. That took a moment to sink in, but once it did he was only confused.

Ivy had taken him all the way back to the palace?

He had no recollection of his arrival. The last thing he remembered was being on the bird with her, his motionless legs tied down, being flown away while Callum stayed behind to… to fight Beetle.

Cold dread sunk into his stomach. Callum was a skilled knight; Beetle would’ve had to fight him in order to defend himself. What if one of them got hurt? Or worse…

“Ah, you’re awake. Good, now you can drink this.”

Flower looked up to find one of the palace’s physicians standing over him, her hands holding a steaming cup. “Lady Ivy told me about your injury. This will help with the pain and any oversensitivity,” she added, nodding for him to take it. “It’s not the most delicious thing in the world, but better than nothing at all.”

“Thank you,” Flower said, accepting the brew and taking a long sip. Just as the physician had said, it was on the edge of tasting foul: bitter and sharp, with a strong, thick scent. But the pain, especially in his legs, was too much for him to seriously consider refusing. He forced himself to drink all of it, doing his best to not make an expression of disgust as he did so.

The physician took the empty cup, disappearing from the room for a brief moment before returning empty-handed.

“Now that you’ve got that in your system, would you mind if I took a closer look at your legs? I’ll do my best to make it quick, but I’m going to have to move them,” she warned. Flower bit his lip, but assented, and she moved to release the ropes.

Whatever concoction he had been given thankfully worked wonders, and all he felt while the physician poked and prodded and moved his legs was a faint twinge, merely echoing his previous agony. Even when she asked him to try and bend his knees- which he was able to do now! Never before had he appreciated that simple action so much!- he didn’t have to hold in a scream. True to her word, the examination was over relatively quickly. 

“Whatever problem related to your fall caused your temporary paralysis, it seems to be resolving itself,” she said, straightening up and bowing slightly. “You’ll need to take at least a few days to let yourself recover, but consider yourself incredibly fortunate that this didn’t end up being a permanent injury. I’ve seen plenty of more experienced soldiers end up far worse, you know.”

Flower fidgeted uncomfortably. “Um, thank you?”

“I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you again, but for now I think you have a visitor. Don’t stand up or push yourself too hard,” the physician said, before turning on her heel and walking briskly out of the room, leaving Flower to call after her.

“Wait, a visitor? Who?” 

She only shut the door behind her, leaving him to wonder…

For all of three seconds, before his mother burst into the room, clutching a handkerchief to her chest and rushing toward him.

“Oh, my son, my poor son!” She wailed, falling to her knees at his bedside and gripping one of his hands so tightly he could barely feel it. “My baby, my baby!”

“Mother, it’s okay,” Flower said, feeling an even mix of relief and exhaustion as he smiled at her. He hadn’t realized that he missed his mother this much. “I’m okay, don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry?” She cried. “Flower, goodness gracious, don’t you ever- how could I not worry about you? You leave for one day, and the next thing I know, I’m being told that my child has fallen, been captured by Beetles, and was hurt?” There were tears running freely down her cheeks, but despite that, the set of her shoulders was strong and regal. “I will always worry about you, until the day I die, because I am your mother, and you’d best not forget that. Do you understand me?”

A knot in his chest loosened, despite the intimidating presence of the queen. “Yes, Mother,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”

“Now, don't apologize, my little Flower, you were kidnapped! I could never be upset with you for that. I’m only worried for you, for your being safe,” she said, leaning forward and dropping a kiss onto his cheek. “But you’re home now, you’re home now.” She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief, smiling faintly down at him. “You’re here now.”

Flower returned her smile, more content in his mother’s company than he could remember being in months. 

And then he remembered he had two parents.

“Is Father coming?” He asked, trying not to get his hopes up. Sure enough, the queen made a noise of sympathy and shook her head.

“No, baby, he’s busy today,” she explained, reaching up and stroking his hair tenderly. “But I’ll talk to him. I’m sure he’ll be able to see you tomorrow, won’t that be wonderful?”

Of course he was too busy, Flower thought bitterly. He shouldn’t have expected anything else. Maybe he wasn’t busy at all, and instead didn’t want to look Flower in the eyes after what he would surely see as a failed mission that he had only allowed reluctantly in the first place. Proof of his incompetence. He would never allow him to take on another mission again.

Lost in his thoughts, he hardly noticed his mother continuing to fawn over him for a minute more, or her standing and letting herself out and shutting the door behind her. 

That is, he hardly noticed until the door to his room slammed open, and Flower barely had time to redirect his attention before he was being pulled into a tight hug that pinned his arms to his sides and pulled at every one of his sore muscles.

“Oh gosh, I’m so glad you’re okay, I was so worried about you, Flower!” The voice in his ear was one he knew well, and he relaxed some, though still grimacing at the pain. 

“Thanks, Cornelia,” he said, slightly short of breath. His friend pulled away, hands still on his shoulders, eyes flitting over him, probably searching for injuries. 

“I heard about what happened,” Cornelia said. “So, what was it like?”

Flower avoided her gaze. “What was what like?”

“All of it!” Cornelia perched on the edge of the bed and adjusted her dress. “Tell me all about your adventure. Unless you don’t want to, then don’t. But if I know you, then you’ve been wanting to tell someone about what really happened out there, because I’ll bet the story Ivy told me isn’t exactly right. She wasn’t there, after all.”

Flower smiled a little at that, unable to resist one of their recurring topics to lighten the mood. “How are you so insightful about things like this, but you can’t even tell that you’ve got feelings for Nutalia?”

“What? No, no way!” Cornelia’s face went red at the mention of her  _ very obvious crush. _ “Nutalia? No, I don’t have- I mean, I don’t- I just…” 

“No, of course you don’t, you’re right. Sorry.” Flower gave her a knowing look. “I’m sure you’ll figure things out eventually.”

Cornelia blushed even harder at that, and her next few attempts at speaking were more like sputtered syllables than actual, recognizable words. Finally, she managed to say something, though her cheeks were still flushed.

“Maybe we can talk about something else, like how you flew on a bird for the first time? Or how you ran into a real live Beetle? How scary was that?”

Flower felt the smile vanish from his face. He sobered, thinking back to their last conversation, when Flower had-

The realization hit him then, like falling from the sky all over again.

“I never got to apologize,” he said aloud, shame welling up inside. Cornelia just looked confused, and a little worried.

“Wait, apologize to who?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. “What happened?”

Flower sighed heavily. “It’s… complicated, Cornelia. Are you sure you want me to tell-“

“Of course I do, what are you talking about? You’re my best friend, Flower. Whatever it is, I want to help.” She put a hand on his shoulder, the touch familiar and reassuring.

Smiling gratefully, he let out a breath. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

With that, Flower readied himself and started to talk. He explained everything that had happened leading up to the previous day, from Ivy telling him about the mission, to his father’s admonishment, to falling from the sky, to his encounter with Beetle. Cornelia listened attentively the whole way through, nodding along and asking the occasional question. She became more concerned when he mentioned his injury, stopping him in his retelling and checking to make sure that he really was on the road to recovery, and gasped when he got to the part where he thought he was going to be eaten.

But most importantly, she didn’t scoff or call him crazy or ask if he had a concussion when he told her about Beetle. She didn’t call him a traitor when he admitted he regretted what he said, and that a part of him still wanted to make things right, to know if he was okay. 

Because it was true: he was scared for Beetle. He was terrified of the possibility that Callum would hurt him. In the short time they'd talked, Flower had somehow grown to care enough about him that the fact he was a Beetle didn’t seem to matter as much as he had always thought it did.

And Cornelia, the faithful and wonderful friend she was, listened earnestly to it all.


	8. Chapter 8

“Are you going to try and go back?”

Flower stared at Cornelia in disbelief. “Go back?”

She nodded. “Yeah, to the Meadow. You know, to look for Beetle? You’re worried sick about him, so why not try to see him again?”

Flower sighed, letting his head fall back onto his pillows. “I wish I could, really I do, but there’s no way anyone would let me. It took so long before they sent me out this time, and look what happened. My mother’s probably never going to let me out of her sight again, and Ivy will never take me on another mission after this, not that my father would authorize it.”

“Has Ivy come to see you yet?” Cornelia asked.

Flower shook his head. “Not yet. But I think that’s because she has actual responsibilities to attend to. I don’t really know, to be honest.”

Cornelia bit her lip, looking away before speaking. “And… has your father shown up?”

“I don’t think my father cares enough to come see me.” He hadn’t meant to be that honest and direct, but he was just tired and restless enough that he kept going. “I failed my mission. He was right all along, I’m not ready. And if he ever hears about what really happened, who knows what he’d say?” His voice wavered, unsteady, and Cornelia placed her hand over his. He took a breath, giving her a grateful look, and then continued. “Maybe it’s better if I don’t see him. I don’t want to see how disappointed he has to be.”

“Well, maybe he won’t be…” she trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging. The unspoken truth weighed heavily on Flower’s mind: the king was going to be furious with him. No way was he going to be getting out of this without facing his father’s judgement.

Just then, the door slammed open, hitting the wall with a resounding crack of sound. Both of their heads shot up, in time to see Ivy running into the room, out of breath, wearing half her armor.

“Ivy?” Flower said, hesitating. “Is everything okay?”

His mentor caught her breath, leaning one hand on the doorframe for balance before answering, voice thin.

“Flower, Callum’s come back.”

His heart stuttered in his chest.

“Wait, Callum? Isn’t that your archery teacher?” Asked Cornelia, looking between Flower and Ivy. 

Flower nodded affirmation, not taking his eyes off Ivy, who stepped forward and spoke directly to him.

“He’s sustained some minor injuries, but nothing life-threatening, thank the stars. He’s down in the medical wing, and he said wants to talk to you.”

Flower had to take a moment to remember how to breathe.

“Wait a minute, why isn’t Flower down there?” Cornelia interjected, having seen his plight and stalling for time.

“Because he’s royalty,” Ivy said, impatience creeping into her tone. “Now, how do you want to get down there?”

A glimmer of a chance- he jumped on it.

“I can’t,” he said, “I’m supposed to be recovering for a few days, and the physician told me not to stand up until then.”

“I can carry you,” Ivy offered. “Don’t you want to hear about what happened?”

Flower hesitated. “I do, but…” the possibility that he was about to hear the worst-case scenario as reality weighed heavily on his mind. “I don’t know.”

“Well, you don’t have to come down if you’re not ready, but Callum did ask to see you. He has something he wants to tell you, specifically,” Ivy told him. Seemingly remembering that she was technically in the presence of foreign royalty, she turned to Cornelia and gave her a small bow. “Sorry, Princess, but I don’t think you should come with us if Flower decides to go. I know you two are close friends, but this is a more personal discussion, between the three of us who were there.”

Cornelia nodded. “It’s okay, I understand.”

“So,” Ivy returned her attention to Flower, “are you going to talk to him, bud?”

“Uh…” he looked to Cornelia, but she shrugged her shoulders helplessly, face sympathetic. He had to make this decision, and he had to make it now. “Yes.”

“Excuse me, Cornelia.” Ivy took a step forward, removing her gauntlets as she did so, and Cornelia stood up from the bed, stepping aside so Ivy could pick him up. She slid one hand under his knees, the other across his back, lifting him easily into the air. Flower held in a noise of pain at the movement. 

“I’ll be here, when you get back,” said Cornelia, making a face that was probably meant to be encouraging but ended up closer to a grimace. He almost laughed at that, a grin briefly crossing his face, and she smiled, pleased. Things like that were such Cornelia things to do, and why he loved his friend as much he did. 

Just not in the way his mother thought.

Through the combination of a slower pace and medicine, the trek down to the medical wing wasn’t nearly as painful as the bird ride home had been. They got a few second glances, but for the most part the trip was uneventful until Ivy spoke, checking to make sure the hallway they were walking down was empty.

“I was so worried about you,” she said, and Flower noticed the lines in her face for the first time. Guilt tugged at his heart at the sight.

“I’m sorry, Ivy. I didn’t mean to mess the mission up and get hurt.”

“I don’t care about the mission,” Ivy burst out, looking down at him with sharp eyes. “The second you fell off that bird, I called it off. You’re more important to me than any objective. We searched for you for hours, Flower. Hours of thinking you might be dead, only to find you in the clutches of a Beetle, injured. Do you really think I had anything on my mind other than making sure you were okay?”

“No,” he admitted, sheepish. Ivy sighed.

“I’m always going to look after you, bud. Remember that. And, please, try not to end up in another potentially life-threatening situation again. I don’t know if I can take this a second time.”

Flower huffed a laugh. “I’ll do my best,” he said, and then more seriously, “I promise.”

“Thank you.” Ivy looked as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders at the words. “We’re here.”

Sure enough, the door to the medical wing was in front of them, close enough that he could’ve reached out and touched it.

“Are you ready?” She asked. “He’s not hurt too badly, but still. If you need a moment, we can take one.”

“No, I want to see him,” Flower assured her. “I’ll be okay, but thank you.”

“Alright, then.” Shifting Flower in her arms to free one of her hands, Ivy rapped on the heavy wood door, the sound echoing in the hall.

Slowly, surely, the door creaked open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters back at the castle are such a refreshing change of pace to write, for a while I thought I’d be writing in that Meadow forever! It’s also a lot of fun being able to finally write Cornelia, not to mention how attached I’ve gotten to Ivy’s character. Hope you liked this chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry if this chapter isn’t quite as good, but my chaptered fics have been giving me trouble lately. I’ve had to take multiple days off of working on them to keep from burning out on them too badly.

Flower hadn’t known exactly what he was expecting to see when Ivy stepped through into the medical wing, but this wasn’t it. Somehow, his mind hadn’t quite processed that Callum had been hurt, and that as such he would probably look it.

He was bare-chested, revealing an array of bruises across his torso and a long bandage on his left shoulder. His right arm was in a sling, and a second bandage was wrapped around his head, luckily free from blood. 

“Hello, Your Highness,” Callum said, voice dripping with exhaustion, but for once not sounding impatient or fed up. “It’s good to see you alive.”

While Flower was more than a little taken aback, Ivy seemed to have no such qualms, walking right up to Callum’s bedside, depositing Flower into a chair, and then sitting down herself. He took a moment and adjusted himself, buying himself a few extra seconds to gather his thoughts before responding.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, realizing his mistake once the words were out of his mouth. “I mean, mostly okay, all things considered,” he corrected, mentally kicking himself. Callum was in the medical wing, with multiple injuries, and here Flower was without a scratch on him telling him he was okay?

On top of that, there was the uncomfortable thought that it must have been Beetle who gave him all these injuries. The Beetle he had interacted with in the Meadow clashed with the evidence in front of him, and he did his best not to envision a purple fist throwing a punch, or sharp claws raking into Callum’s shoulder.

A physician spoke up from behind Flower.

“These aren’t mortal injuries, but I still have to ask that your conversation be kept relatively short. It’s protocol.”

He heard Ivy responding to the physician, but Callum was starting to talk, so he didn’t make out what she said, putting all his attention on his archery teacher. Callum moved his head, ever so slightly, indicating Ivy.

“She was a mess while we were looking for you,” he said. “She’s usually so focused on our missions, but I don’t think she thought about it once. The second you fell, she was swooping down to try and find you.” He smiled- something Flower had never seen him do. “It was really quite touching.”

Speechless, he nodded, completely uncertain about what he was supposed to do.

“Anyways. You probably came here expecting to hear the story about the fight,” Callum said, and cold shot down Flower’s spine. “It’s what I wanted to tell you. After what you went through, you deserve to know.

“The Beetle got away.”

The shock of relief left him almost dizzy. Beetle was alive, Beetle was alive, Beetle was alive. He hadn't gotten killed because of his kindness towards Flower.

But Callum wasn’t finished yet.

“He was strangely incompetent; for a warrior race he could barely hold his own. Spent most of the time trying to find an opening to fly away, like a coward. The only hits he was able to get on me were a few solid punches and this one slash.” He gestures to his shoulder. “I got knocked down and hit my head right after I got one good stab in on him, but with any luck, he’ll have gotten eaten or bled to death before he gets back to whatever army he was with.”

“Wait, you stabbed him?” Flower cried.

“Yes. Their armor can be hard to pierce if you don’t know where to strike, but I happen to have plenty of experience with these things. All it took was a brief opening, and it was really quite simple.” The unconcealed pride on his face turned Flower’s stomach. He was frozen in place, unable to move an inch, Beetle the only thing he could see in his mind’s eye. Panic was flaring in his chest, taunting him,  _ maybe you got him killed, whatever happened to him after that is all your fault, you can’t do anything- _

“Flower? Bud, what’s wrong? What is it?” It was Ivy, putting a steadying arm across his shoulders. “Is this too much, too soon?”

“No, no,” he gasped, trying to will his heartbeat to slow down enough for him to think. “I’m fine, really.”

Callum shrugged, unconcerned. “He was still plenty alive when he flew away, I’m sorry to say. I only wish I could’ve killed him properly, but I was pretty beat up by that point. I hope I haven’t disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” Flower said incredulously. He was the opposite of disappointed that Beetle survived, but didn’t mention that particular detail. “No, nobody’s disappointed.”

“You did something truly brave, Callum,” Ivy added. “I don’t know if Flower and I would’ve been able to escape when we did if you hadn’t held off the Beetle. And if we hadn’t gotten him away, he might not have survived. When it counted, you stepped up.”

When it counted. Flower would’ve laughed if he hadn’t been trying to hold back tears.

“Thank you both,” Callum said, and made eye contact with Flower. “I’m glad you are okay.”

That was the straw that broke the raven’s back.

Flower sobbed, whirling in his seat to hug Ivy and bury his face in her shoulder. It was childish, he knew, but at that moment he couldn’t bring himself to care. All the guilt and fear that had built inside him felt like it was trying to force its way out as tears.

“Bud?” He heard Ivy say, surprised, even as he felt her arms wrapping around him. “Flower, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“Maybe he couldn’t handle this after all.” Callum’s voice was dismissive, and it only made Flower feel worse. Ivy tightened her hold on him.

“I’m going to take him back to his room,” she said, and he almost said ‘thank you’ out loud. “The Acorn Princess is here; she’ll be able to help him calm down.”

With that, gravity shifted until it was pulling sideways as Ivy lifted him up into her arms. Flower kept his face hidden against her shoulder, wanting to apologize for the growing wet spot in her tunic there but not trusting his tear-choked voice.

The trip back to his room felt much quicker, and it wasn’t long at all before Ivy was lowering him back onto his bed. He didn’t open his eyes, though, and he clung onto Ivy as best he could.

“Flower?” Cornelia gasped, and he felt her hurry over and touch his hand. “What happened?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Ivy answered her, sadly. “It might have been too soon to be discussing what happened like that. On top of him not being fully healed, who knows.”

“Beetle,” Flower whispered, trying to answer but still shaking with sobs that he couldn’t stop. “Beetle.”

And while Cornelia was probably able to discern what he meant, Ivy didn’t. “I think he might still be in a bit of shock,” she said softly. “He’s been through a lot in a short amount of time.” She ran a hand gently over his hair, and the touch made him want to cry more and smile at the same time. “I’m sorry, bud.”

“Flower,” Cornelia murmured, squeezing his hand. “We’re here for you.”

Flower stayed silent after that, but in his mind, he promised something to himself, then and there, with his two closest friends by his side.

He would stay put until he was fully recovered, for their sakes. He couldn’t stand the thought of making them worry even more. But after that, he was going to find Beetle, no matter what it took.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully next chapter the plot will pick up again a little more. Hope you still liked this one somewhat!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really sorry this has taken forever to come out. I know this chapter isn’t much, but it’s all I’ve been able to write for this work for several weeks now, and I think I just need to post it and get a mental reset on this fic.   
> I’m at the part in the story and planning that’s in-between the areas I’ve got more solidly mapped out, and trying to find the bridge has been exhausting. So, I’ll apologize again for the long wait, and I hope you’ll be able to bear with me as I figure this out.

Flower woke up the next morning feeling extremely sore, but also much calmer. Now that he had made up his mind to go looking for Beetle, his worry was temporarily sated, and he had managed to sleep through the majority of the night. His dreams hadn’t been plagued by memories, as he had feared, and he was cautiously optimistic about the state of things.

So, of course, something had to come along and upturn everything. 

That something was his father.

Flower had finished breakfast and been examined again by the physician, and now had nothing to do other than wait for either Ivy or Cornelia to come back. Laying in bed, muscles aching, he tried to maintain his relatively stable mindset.

That was when the door burst open so hard it rebounded off the wall and nearly shut itself again. Flower bolted upright, groaning in regret as the pain flared up. Then he caught sight of his father, and he froze in place, unable to move. 

The Flower King looked positively murderous as he stormed towards the bed, face bright red and fists clenched so hard they were trembling. Flower could’ve sworn he could feel the blood in his veins stilling, too afraid of his father’s wrath to risk moving.

“I send you on  _ one. Single. Mission. _ ” His father spat, every word razor-sharp. “After you begged me to let you prove yourself. You told me nothing would go wrong, and that you had everything under control. So I let you go. And  _ what happens? _ ” 

Flower didn’t answer, thinking the question rhetorical, until he realized his father was actually waiting for him to say something. He willed his voice to stay steady.

“I didn’t have everything under control,” he said, ducking his head. “I was wrong, and I failed.”

“It’s not only your complete and utter failure that I’m angry about,” his father said darkly. “No, I’m angry that you could be so reckless as to endanger yourself when you are sole heir to this kingdom! Such an avoidable error as  _ falling off your mount  _ could have been deadly! What were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all?”

Flower kept his gaze down, closing his eyes as if it would guard against the accusations. 

“Well? Answer me, boy!”

“I’m sorry,” Flower said, not opening his eyes. He clenched fistfuls of his blankets in his hands. “I should’ve been more careful. I was irresponsible.”

“Yes, you were,” his father confirmed, but his anger had lost its edge. He sighed, and a hint of real emotion showed its face. “You could’ve easily died out there, Flower. Very few have survived being taken captive by Beetles. The fact that you managed to is entirely due to the skill of Lady Ivy, Sir Callum, and pure dumb luck. Do you realize how much that would impact not only the kingdom, but your mother and I as well? I can’t have this kind of thing happening anymore.”

Flower finally opened his eyes and looked up at the king, feeling a cold emptiness inside his chest. “Let me guess, no more missions once I’m back to normal.”

“Not only that, but you will only be permitted to leave this room under watch from Lady Ivy. She will be your constant supervision from now on.”

He balked at that. “But doesn’t Ivy have other-“

“Don’t interrupt!” His father boomed. “Do not forget that I am the final power in this kingdom, and what I say goes. If I order Lady Ivy to watch you, then she will do so, without question. Understood?”

All he could do was nod. 

“Furthermore,” the king went on, “your combat training is now suspended indefinitely. The way I see it, that’s the cause of this whole mess, so I’m removing it from the equation now, before you heal and it becomes an even greater issue. No more unnecessary risks, and certainly no more training. Nothing like this should ever happen again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Father.” Flower could see no other choice than to agree. “Clear as day.”

“Good.” With that, the king swept out of the room, gone in a heartbeat without saying goodbye. Flower was left somewhat stunned in his wake to process what had been said, head muddled with mixed-up thoughts begging to be released and sorted through. Rubbing his forehead, he longed for Cornelia.

As if on cue, a quiet knock sounded at the door.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: as of today, I have officially been writing for a whole year! Hopefully in year 2, I’ll be able to update my fics more consistently?? With how school is going right now, I’ll just have to see if I can pull it off. 
> 
> This isn’t exactly a super plot-heavy chapter, but hopefully it’s still enjoyable!

Flower’s door opened slowly, revealing Cornelia on the other side. Her eyes were full of worry, forehead crossed with lines, and she looked about two seconds away from biting her fingernails down to the quick.

“Flower?” She said tentatively, not crossing through the doorway. “Are you okay? Do you want me to go?”

Even in the aftermath of what had happened with his father, Flower couldn’t help but feel more at ease when he saw his friend. Cornelia had always, always been there right when he needed her. 

“No, no, please don’t leave,” he said. “I was actually hoping you’d come, there’s something I really wanted to talk to you about.”

Cornelia smiled at that, seeming to visibly relax as she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “Oh, good! I was really worried about you, and I wanted to come see you as soon as I heard, but I figured you’d want some time to yourself first so I waited and… well, here I am now, is what’s important.” She took a seat on the bed, arranging her dress so she could pull her legs underneath her and sit next to him. “Talk as much as you want, I’m here to listen.”

He was about to thank her, to explain what his father had said to him, but then something she had said clicked. “Wait, you said you wanted to come as soon as you heard? Heard what?” 

Cornelia froze, then sighed, putting a hand on Flower’s arm. “Look, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, okay? But I was already on my way up to come see you, and I didn’t know that your father was here, too, so when I saw him I panicked and hid around the corner, but… I heard everything he said. I’m really, really sorry, Flower.” 

It was his turn to sigh. It felt like he was doing that a lot lately. “It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize. Saves me having to explain it again, anyway.” He tried for a smile and didn’t quite make it. “But either way, I’m honestly just glad you’re here now. I’m… kind of lost, after all this.”

He meant it.

Cornelia took his hand, giving him that reassuring smile that never failed to lift his spirits. “If talking’s what will help you, then talk away. I’m here to listen.”

————

Everything with his father had happened so quickly, and with no warning to precede it. 

But now, after over an hour of talking with Cornelia and getting his thoughts in order, he knew for certain: two things had changed.

Firstly, he was no longer permitted to train. 

Strangely, despite all he had worked for and how much he had once longed to complete that training, he could barely find it in himself to care. How much had one encounter with Beetle changed him? It was unsettling, yet… not, simultaneously. 

Secondly, Ivy would now be keeping constant watch over him, wherever he went. That would be more of a problem, especially once he could properly walk again...

He caught himself, disgusted by his own thoughts. Ivy was his friend! She cared about him, had fought to keep him safe, and yet here he was, thinking about her as nothing more than an obstacle in his way!

And yet, how was he meant to search for Beetle if Ivy was chaperoning him, determined to keep him home and safe? She was leagues more skilled than him in every area he could think of, and at least twice as strong. Somehow evading her- especially when she had explicit instructions to never let him out of her sight- sounded less like a difficult challenge than it did a laughably impossible task. 

Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to  _ try.  _ As much as he despised the thought, he would eventually need to find a way around her if he was ever going to find Beetle again.

And… he desperately wanted to see Beetle. 

So, somehow, when the time came, Flower would have to make it up to Ivy. 

———-

Later that afternoon, Ivy herself came to see him, ever-present armor strangely absent. Concern came to life in Flower’s chest, heightened by the leftover guilt from his earlier thoughts. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but Ivy was already talking.

“Word is your father came to see you, is that true?” She asked, and Flower nodded, suddenly not trusting himself to speak. Evidently, it wasn’t just Cornelia who had heard the king’s scolding. 

Ivy shook her head, pulling a chair close to the bed and sitting down heavily. “I’m sorry, bud. Are you okay? I know you and him don’t exactly see eye-to-eye.”

Flower shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but evidently Ivy saw right through it. She leaned forward and patted his foot, which was surprisingly comforting. then lowered her voice, taking a much softer tone than before. 

“Hey. I know you probably don’t feel too great right now. But it’ll be okay, don’t you worry. Has Cornelia come to see you yet today?”

“She was here earlier,” Flower answered, grateful for the chance to delay bringing up the new arrangements. “She had perfect timing, and talking to her helped a lot. I feel much better than I did.”

“Good. She’s a wonderful friend for you, and I’m happy you have her.” 

There was a long, slightly awkward silence, where neither Flower nor Ivy spoke. The king’s conditions hung over them, begging to be discussed, but Flower very much wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

Finally, it was Ivy who broke the silence, shaking her head. 

“I’m glad you have Cornelia to help you, because I simply can’t believe this. What is your father thinking? Assigning me to chaperone you is one thing- one thing I’m frankly in favor of- but halting your training is another. These are important things for you to learn once you’re healed,” she said. “It seems paranoid. I don’t like it.”

“Really? I thought you’d be all for it,” Flower said, and he realized it was true. “You’ve been so concerned, I figured you wouldn’t want me anywhere near a sword ever again.”

Ivy chuckled a bit, but it sounded more sad than amused. “I did think that, at first. I’d like nothing more than to guarantee your safety after all you’ve been through. Keeping you away from fighting and battles and Beetles entirely does sound like the easiest way to accomplish that.” She gazed off into space, quiet, before continuing on. “But in reality, you can’t remain sheltered here in the palace forever. All stopping your training does, in the long run, is ensure that you won’t be able to defend yourself when you inevitably end up in danger. You’re the Flower Prince, and whether your father likes it or not, that means you will always face grave risks.”

“Ivy…”

“Besides, you’ll still have me at your side at all times. Believe me, no danger will come near as long as I’m protecting you, bud.”

Flower’s hopes fell flat. 

But he knew Ivy cared, more than anyone else besides Cornelia. And that meant more than he quite knew how to say at that moment. So when he smiled, it was much more genuine than he had expected.

“I know, Ivy. Thank you.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter two weeks after the last is brought to you courtesy of me actually starting to get my life together!

_ He was back in the Meadow, standing on his own two feet as if he had never fallen at all. A gentle breeze sent the petals on the blooms above swaying, bringing their scents with it. And there, lying peacefully in the shade of a particularly bright flower, was Beetle. Perfectly safe and alive, without a scratch on him, hands folded on top of his chest and eyes closed like he didn’t have a care in the world. _

_ Flower felt his heart pause in its beating, the world seeming to grow warmer for a split second before returning to normal.  _

_ He tried to take a step forward, but his legs wouldn’t obey. He looked down: there was nothing wrong with them that he could see, and he didn’t feel any pain. And yet, when he commanded his foot to lift up, it didn’t budge. It might as well have been fused to the soil. _

_ He looked back at Beetle, who was still lounging underneath the flower, and felt something in his chest physically pulling towards him. All at once, he was short of breath and struggling for air, an emotion he couldn’t identify filling his whole body until he felt he might burst. Clutching at his chest, he leaned forward as far as he could, feet anchored in place keeping him upright. Without meaning to or thinking about it, he reached out, as if he could stretch his arm over a distance six times its length and grasp Beetle’s hand, as if he could run his fingers over smooth purple plating- _

Flower jolted awake, gasping like he had been sprinting instead of dreaming. His heart was racing far too fast, and that strange  _ feeling  _ in his chest hadn’t left. He could’ve sworn on his life that there was a thread attached to his front, just over his heart, tugging him towards the door.

Of course, there wasn’t. He checked to be sure: by the moonlight he could see that there was no magic line leading him to Beetle. It was all in his head, somehow; his mind was conjuring up sensations to… well, he didn’t know why, but it was happening.

“I really need to go back,” he whispered to himself, and to his surprise the pull on his heart relaxed, like a string going slack, as if speaking the words aloud had actually placated it. Experimentally, he tried again: “I’m going to find Beetle,” he said, and just like that the feeling was gone. Like it had never been there in the first place- and maybe it hadn’t. Now that he couldn’t feel it anymore, he was already uncertain whether he hadn’t imagined it entirely. Half-dreamed it, somewhere in between waking and sleeping.

Sighing, he laid back down, closing his eyes. It wasn’t morning yet, and the sky was still dark, but he knew he wouldn’t be getting any more rest that night.

———-

Having Ivy as his constant chaperone took some getting used to.

After Cornelia, she was his closest friend, so altogether it wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable or awkward as it could’ve been. Since Flower was still confined to bed rest for at least another few days, for the most part, he and Ivy talked to pass the time. They discussed books they had both read and gave each other recommendations; they took turns inventing clever wordplays (neither of them was very good at that, but they had immense fun); they went over various defensive strategies that Ivy promised she would teach him, as soon as he was up on his feet again.

But some things never changed, remaining as constant reminders to Flower that this wasn’t just a leisurely break from duty for Ivy. She never took off her armor except for when she slept, on a small cot just inside the doorway, and she never let go of her sword, always keeping one hand carefully on its hilt. There was a new tension in her eyes, too, clearest whenever her gaze would flick over to the window or the door at the slightest hint of noise. More than once, Flower had woken up in the middle of the night to find Ivy standing with her back to him in the doorway, sword drawn as she kept silent vigil.

It wasn’t a vacation for Flower, either. He was still worrying over how he was supposed to slip away when his friend was so intent on keeping him safe. And the dream- 

_ Reaching, always reaching, sometimes closer, sometimes farther, never quite enough- _

...The dream persisted. Most nights he had it, he woke up covered in sweat and feeling like there was an empty space in his chest where his heart was supposed to be. 

Ivy fretted over him, and paced the floor, and demanded answers from the poor physician, who had to explain multiple times that there was nothing wrong with Flower physically to cause this. Even when he himself tried to assure her that he was okay, and that there was no need to worry, it was just a dream,  _ really,  _ Ivy still frowned and clutched her sword. 

It made the guilt clawing at his conscience hurt all the more.

But his resolve never wavered. And he promised himself- promised Beetle- one more time that when the opportunity presented itself, he was going to take it.

—————

_ One week later _

It was time. After the most agonizingly harrowing wait of his life, the physician had finally cleared him to “return to normal activity”, whatever that looked like now. If the entire mission fiasco had never happened, he would probably be on his way to the practice fields right now, wooden sword in hand, preparing to lose yet another fight with Ivy. Instead, he was hurrying through the halls on the tips of his toes, trying to be as silent as physically possible.

He had only seconds, he knew, before Ivy noticed he was gone. He had to put as much distance between himself and her-

“Bud? Flower?” Ivy’s voice was nearer than he had expected, the telltale clanking of her armor louder than he thought. His heart dropped. It was now or never.

He took off down the long hall, abandoning stealth in favor of speed, sticking close to the wall and skidding around the corner so sharply he nearly fell over. His heart was pounding so loudly in his ears that he could barely hear Ivy’s armor, even though a glance over his shoulder revealed that her shadow was already rounding the corner behind him.

She was one of the best knights in the kingdom for a reason.

An impending sense of hopelessness was descending onto his shoulders, but he shook his head and pushed it away as he turned the next corner. He was close, he was close, he was close. He could do this.

_ Come on, Flower. Don’t let Beetle down. _

It was then that he remembered he would still have to mount a bird and get it out of the stables before he would be in the clear, and in that time Ivy would certainly catch up with him. He desperately racked his brain for any faster way to get in the air, any way to evade her, but found none. He was running towards what essentially amounted to a dead end. This was futile.

_ You can’t stop,  _ his inner voice insisted.  _ You’re doing this for Beetle, remember? _

The image of Beetle as he had appeared in the Meadow- in his dream- suddenly filled his mind’s eye, deep purple shell and bright eyes replacing the vision of the white hall in front of him. Instead of his own heavy breathing and footsteps, or his racing heart, or Ivy’s armor, he heard a lilting laugh, easy and deep. He could smell the pollen in the air, feel the phantom touch of a claw-tipped hand around his waist-

Just around the last corner, he ran out of time. A gauntlet-clad hand seized his wrist, yanking him backwards and bringing him to a halt, directly in front of Ivy. Her grip wasn’t tight, but the metal of her gauntlet was unrelenting, and the full intimidating force of her disappointed glare was directed onto him.

“Ivy,” he panted, shame already working into his chest. “I-“

“Why don’t you explain yourself once we get back to your room.” She didn’t phrase it as a question. “Let’s go, before your father hears about this.” She looked barely winded, hair still firmly in place and forehead free of sweat, which made his own sorry state all the more laughable. He was out of breath, and sweating, and his muscles were starting to complain, and to top it all off he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to look Ivy in the eye again. 

This had been a betrayal of trust. No matter what reasons he had for doing it, it didn’t change that fact.

So he didn’t argue, didn’t try to wrench his arm away from her. He merely nodded, shoulders slumping as he resigned himself to his failure. But he didn’t hang his head, either; something in his heart prevented him from doing so. A rebellious feeling, one that still yearned and reached for the stables, for the sky. For the person- the Beetle- who he had only met once, yet who had consumed his thoughts and even his dreams ever since they parted.

He couldn’t give up, even though he had just managed the most spectacular failure of a getaway. Even though… even though he didn’t know  _ what  _ was going through Ivy’s head at that moment.

Because part of him had never left that Meadow. And that part of him wouldn’t be satisfied until he returned.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain this chapter really went ‘we gotta get this plot moving somehow’


End file.
